


Sourdough

by octopus_fool



Series: Yuletide Cheer [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, ardaadvent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 11:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5333195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopus_fool/pseuds/octopus_fool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bombur hates seeing Bifur’s frustration with his new disability.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sourdough

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt 1 of [ardaadvent](http://ardaprompts.tumblr.com/post/133103717966/arda-advent-guidelines) on tumblr, "baking".
> 
> The translations of the Khuzdûl should be available as mouseovers (if the html works...). There is also a wordbank at the end.
> 
> Also, a great big thanks to my best friend and beta - it’s good to know at least one of us paid attention in lectures. ;)

Bombur watched as Bifur paced. The healer had suggested Bifur do so to rebuild the muscles that had deteriorated while Bifur was bedridden with his injury, but this went beyond that. This was the pacing of an animal that had walked into a trap.

Bifur was well enough to leave the house. When the healer had told them this, all three of them had taken a short walk outside. None of them had quite been prepared for the stares and whispers. If that had been all, perhaps Bifur would have been able to shrug it off. But Bombur could see the frustration growing in Bifur’s face as he struggled to find the words and only Khuzdul came, could see the resignation when Bifur returned home hours after leaving for the market around the corner, clearly having become disoriented along the way. They made sure to accompany him after that, but that changed nothing about Bifur’s growing frustration, quite the opposite. 

Bombur did not know how many hours he had watched Bifur pace in the last couple of days. He wanted to help him in some way or the other, but there wasn’t much he could do and he had his part of the household to run, especially since Bifur had not been able to help as much as usual since his injury. 

That thought made an idea occur to Bombur. 

“Come help me,” he said to Bifur, already walking towards the kitchen and opening the cupboard to get out the ingredients and the [agnanu hamud](). 

Bifur followed him, the part of his brow that wasn’t hidden behind the last of bandages rising. Bombur set the ingredients onto the table and got out his set of scales he had inherited from his mother and she in turn had inherited from their grandmother. 

“It goes faster if one reads out the ingredients and the other weighs them. Do you want to read or mix them together?” 

Bombur set the recipe for the bread on the counter, proud he had remembered where he kept it even though he actually knew it by heart. 

Bifur shrugged his shoulders.  
/You read, I mix,/ He replied, just as Bombur had hoped and expected he would.

Bombur read out the different ingredients and how much they needed of them and Bifur weighed them in the scales. The scent of flour and the agnanu hamud alone already calmed Bombur’s nerves and the familiar clacking of the weights on the scale did the rest.

“Go ahead and knead it,” Bombur said. “Perhaps it will help rebuild your muscles.”

Bifur began kneading the dough, no more enthusiastic about it than he had been about weighing the ingredients. Bombur prepared the bowl in which the dough would be left to rise and replaced what they had taken from the agnanu hamud with flour and water. Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as Bifur began putting more energy into the task. 

He saw as the dough was replaced by the people who stared at Bifur in the streets in Bifur’s eyes, then the restrictions the injury had placed on Bifur. The kneading became more and more vigorous, almost turning into slaps and punches. That must have been the orc who put the axe where it was, Bombur guessed, and that the frustration of being unable to live his life the way he had used to.

Bifur kneaded and kneaded, long past the point Bombur knew was perfect to get bread of just the right consistency. Bombur said nothing. He would eat crumbly bread every day if that made Bifur even slightly happier. 

Finally, Bifur looked up again, his slightly sheepish smile possibly the first one Bombur had seen from him since the healer had said he could leave the house and his shoulders far more relaxed than they had been all day.  
/I think it’s probably ready./

Bombur grinned back. “Most likely. I’ll set it here to let it rise.”

Bifur became serious and placed a hand on Bombur’s shoulder, looking into his eyes and nodding his head.  
“[Akhminruki astû. Sanzigil tamkhihi astû.]()”

 

The dense, crumbly bread they ate that evening was the best Bombur had tasted in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> agnanu hamud – starter of breads  
> Akhminruki astû. Sanzigil tamkhihi astû. - Thank you wholeheartedly. Mithril find you.


End file.
